


lending a hand

by Feather (lalaietha)



Series: (even if i could) make a deal with god [your blue-eyed boys related short-fic] [109]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky's total failure to recognize his own massive psychological progress, Chloe the vet student, Clint Barton's ethics, Dr Santiago Chloe's boss, Gen, Paula Chloe's Girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaietha/pseuds/Feather
Summary: The Apricat gets fixed.





	lending a hand

**Author's Note:**

> NB: Contains brief discussion of the surgical procedure to spay a cat, minimal detail but still there. 
> 
> This fic is part of [**this series**](http://archiveofourown.org/series/132585), which is for short-fic associated with my fic [**your blue-eyed boys**](http://archiveofourown.org/series/107477), because I needed somewhere to stash it.
> 
> Also I adore you all and your comments are the most wonderful things in my life and I will totally get to answering them I swear but for now I'm going to fall over sleep.

Okay here's the thing though: before anything else, I feel a little bit of the need to defend myself. I mean not seriously. I don't feel _seriously_ attacked. But like _I am just saying_ , okay, I need to set something straight. 

I did not _miss_ the part where yeah, okay, my upstairs neighbour who was always sweet and helped people with carrying stuff and so on looked like Captain America. I didn't even miss that he looked like Captain America _and his name was Steve_ although let's be real here I never bothered looking at the call buttons because I don't need to buzz into my own building so no I did not notice that his last name was Rogers because why would I. But _Steve_ is not an uncommon name and more importantly _there is a freaking competition for Cap lookalikes every year, okay?_ In Brooklyn! I used to go! 

Actually I'll probably go again this year because let's be honest here whoever does the catering for that event is amaze and the whole thing is a riot. But that's not the point. 

The point is that _in the real world_ , right, _yes_ , glasses are enough to make Clark Kent the secret identity of Superman. Did you know that Christopher Reeve used to literally go to the same, like, restaurant or something, near where he was actually shooting - like, _shooting the movie_ , right, _Superman_ \- and people _didn't recognize him?_

Because it's true. Everyone's got someone they know who looks exactly like some famous person and you never think that they're actually that famous person, and the more ludicrously famous the person the _less_ you think it's them, especially if they have no reason to be there. Adele came like what, second? Third? In an Adele-lookalike contest. I bet _Elvis_ wouldn't win his own lookalike contest. 

So yeah, Clark Kent, mild mannered reporter, _is_ a secret identity for Superman because _who the fuck_ thinks a super-powered alien who actually has a Fortress of Solitude where he lives and where people have been in contact with him is moonlighting as a fucking junior reporter at some local city newspaper for crappy pay and a terrible benefits package? Right? No, you just work with someone who's a lookalike. 

You know he probably even makes jokes about it. Someone mentions it and he's like OH NO YOU CAUGHT ME I AM SUPERMAN! And like the other reporters roll their eyes. 

And my point is that this is not actually that much different from thinking that _fucking Captain America_ lives on the top floor of the seriously middle-grade building full of three-or-fewer-bedroom-suites where my great-aunt's owned a unit forever, that I live in while I go to vet school. Especially when we all _know_ he's got a fucking _luxury floor_ at Avengers Tower. 

(Yeah yeah I know the name change isn't official yet but _let's be real okay_ it's fucking Avengers Tower already.) 

And yeah I knew that the little girl from upstairs also was convinced it was but she was _twelve_ when she started with that, okay? She was a great twelve year old, not arguing, totally sweet smart kid, but _twelve_. Do you remember being twelve? I do. We were not that in touch with reality, I am just saying. 

On _top of that_ I would like to point out that for people who are totally doppelgängers for famous people - like, at least for some of them, _it gets old_ , and I bet it gets even older if you happen to share a name, like "Steve", which is _also not an uncommon white-person name guys_ , so I was being polite by not mentioning it and being cool. 

Also and finally, Steve does not act like Captain America on a day to day basis, okay? He's just sweet and polite and a good neighbour and totally ordinary. He's _sheepish_ sometimes, okay. That whole Noble Purpose, Commanding Presence thing is not so much a feature. The first time my goofy dogs ran over to sniff him when we were coming home from walk-time he totally froze like he didn't know what to do with dogs that said hello. It was cute, but it was not the kind of thing to make you think "Captain America" and then like, he was just Steve who lived upstairs. 

And I don't know if anyone else's noticed, but between Stark Industries pairing with Limbs for Life and the ridiculous conspiracy theory websites (okay look just because they're _broadly true_ doesn't make them less ridiculous!) and the way people just are, the kind of prosthetic James has isn't _visually_ that unusual - I mean okay very few of them are actually made of metal although there was that one kid on Good Morning America and sure okay they probably are just calibrated for normal human limb action and can't crush a handgun like it's crumpling up aluminum foil _but my point is_ it's not totally outré _at first glance_ especially if you just assume that Stark went and gave someone a prototype which everyone knows he does _all the time_.

And it's not like James even has the huge red star on this one anymore or like _anyone ever saw him_ back when he did (because Mercedes told me like there was his old arm that HYDRA made that was awful and then Stark _did make him a new one_ but the point is he might as well have been just a rumour for like the first year he lived at Steve's okay? _Nobody saw him_ except for the tween who hung out on the roof) _so my overall point fucking is_ it is not that unreasonable that I did not do the equivalent of deciding that Clark Kent was Superman. 

Which, as stated, it's not unreasonable not to realize Clark Kent is Superman _as Christopher Reeve proved._

I just needed to make this point, okay. 

Now we can move on. 

 

I also sort of recognized Hawkeye when he came into the clinic but in, like, retrospect. Because I was busy to start with, and seriously that day was really really stuffed full and I had a _lot_ of make-up stuff to do because the other chick who used to do the other half of the receptionist stuff totally got fired because she came to work high and was terrible. 

Like, I'm not puritanical, seriously? But you don't come to _work_ where you have to _pay attention_ and do a good job on freaking pot, okay. And I swear I'm usually Miss Nice but this chick was really really useless and she made a _lot_ more work for me when I already had a lot of work for school and she must've been really snotty about it because I swear Dr Santiago and Dr Burger totally could not fire her otherwise. They don't fire people. Even when sometimes they maybe should. 

Well except for like if somehow that person is endangering the animals. But that's different. 

The point being I was totally swamped and not thinking about people coming to the desk except as "do I actually know you and what do I need to do my job" so the guy was like okay whatever some polite white guy, not young, not old, normal clothes, good looking, wants to talk to the vet, whatever, on I go to the files I need to fix and the calls I need to make. 

Then after he left when I said Dr Santiago would talk to him later there was about ten minutes where I was like wait did I recognize him? And like _before_ I found out that Captain America lived upstairs I would totally have just waved that off but this time okay I was like well maybe. _Maybe_. 

But also I kinda didn't care because like I said I was super busy and I dunno maybe Hawkeye has a dog or something? Whatever. 

So I didn't think about it again until I was teaching the new girl we hired to replace the chick who was useless. And thankfully the new girl Tonya is totally not useless which is really nice, and she actually picks stuff up super quick so she was totally up for handling the phones and stuff - so I actually got a whole lot of the files done and was a bit less swamped at around like three or three-thirty when Dr Santiago finished an appointment and asked if I could come talk to her in her office. 

Total aside: Dr Burger and Dr Santiago are like the Odd Couple, it's hilarious. Sometimes I don't even know how they haven't killed each other yet but they actually get along so that just goes to show. 

Dr Santiago is like _hyper_ organized to the point where I'm pretty sure she knows what she's going to be doing when she's fifty-five on Tuesday, March 7th, at noon okay: it's nuts. Total flipside, Dr Burger is great at remembering when he has appointments and stuff about his patients and otherwise he basically hires a professional organizer to come and clean up his mess once every few months because otherwise oh my god I think he'd probably end up with his utilities shut off because he lost the bills. That's how different they are. Anyway, it means the office is this total split-personality space. It cracks me up all the time. 

Also second aside: I just have to say a huge part of the reason I like working at the clinic even though it's crazy-busy and stressful is honestly because with Dr Santiago there I'm not the Lone Queer Person, because she has a wife! And her wife is in the Navy and is kind of awesome, in that she's brilliant, stupidly hot, and also apparently just kind of opted out of normal human social behaviour sometime around, like, high-school? Which is funny because Dr Santiago is like the person who would be voted Most Socially Appropriate if anyone ever did that kind of thing so I mean I guess if I stop and think about it maybe Dr Santiago just works best in total Odd Couple situations? I dunno. But the point is that also on top of me not being the Lone Queer Person, Dr Santiago is also really good at taking random stuff in stride. 

Anyway so she asks me to come in to talk about setting up this special arrangement for the guy who came in to talk to her earlier, well actually for his friend, and she got like halfway through describing what that guy said when I had to like bite my tongue so I didn't blurt out _oh my god that's my neighbour._

The thing is sometimes I think it's almost super-weird that Dr Santiago is a vet because half the time I think she should be a cop, like a detective, because she is _super good_ at noticing tiny details and stuff like that? I actually said that once and _she_ said that she'd actually almost gone to the police academy when she got done high-school, because when she was a kid she'd been super allergic to dogs, but then she grew out of it and found out that she didn't even dislike dogs like she thought she did, she disliked people who didn't know how to train and socialize their dogs? And then she found out same for like basically all animals and ended up being a vet because she was too much of a perfectionist to be a trainer or a behaviourist. So there's that. 

But the point there is she totally stopped and looked at me and was like, "Chloe, you have a face right now." 

Because I am not my girlfriend I totally did not point out that I always have a face because I also totally knew what she _meant_. And yeah I had one because like okay first of all that was totally James which meant yeah it was _Hawkeye_ in here earlier although that wasn't really the part that was making me make a face - and it was not a big face it's not like I was like _grimacing_ or something I barely just froze a little like I said Dr Santiago is _really_ good at noticing little things - the part that was making me make a face was now I was actually thinking about the, like, logistical realities of getting the Apricat fixed and oh wow. 

Like.

I hadn't actually thought about it before because it hadn't seemed like it was any of my business anyway so why would I? But like okay once you sort of grasp the realities about my upstairs neighbours and then about what that means has to be true out of the insane seeming conspiracy theories because it's the only thing that makes sense for how things are right now it does not take a lot to figure out, like - 

How do I put this delicately? 

James probably doesn't like needles. You know? 

Also it gets really super obvious that the cat is really important, which is only like underscored by the part where apparently Hawkeye is going out sorting out how to like have her out of sight the least time physically possible without actually watching the operation which would probably not be a good idea at all and like okay, immediate query, why not hire someone to just go to the Tower? Like _hello_?

But then I was like _oh god_ if it were me that would be like so . . .embarrassing? Okay maybe humiliating. Like wow _all this fuss_ , holy shit a major house-call in like a special hospital, all because I can't handle something totally normal. 

And from the outside I know that's insane but like - I have some experience about this, okay, because of shit Tyler pulled when I was still with him and it kind of left me paranoid or twitchy or whatever, so sometimes I basically kind of have, like. Flashbacks. Or like, triggers. Sort of. Not like full on disorder but just _stuff_.

And I hate it so so much every single time it happens or when I have to ask people not to do stuff or I have to leave or whatever, because it makes me feel like this super-precious _freakshow_ and like yeah, okay, actually when you think about it just asking some normal vet who doesn't know you if you can do _this_ much might actually be less, like, acid-eating-away-my-self-esteem, if it were me, than getting some kind of super-special five-star treatment of like people totally rearranging their whole lives. 

Especially since, like I said, Dr Santiago's wife is in the Navy? So she's got a thing about helping veterans especially with mental health stuff and would like bend over backwards over it and hey maybe Hawkeye even knew that before he came in which is slightly creepy to think about except you'd really only have to hit up her Facebook page, which is totally unlocked? And see where she talks a lot and the huge flamewar she got into over this like a month ago? Which she kinda does regularly? So not that creepy. 

(That flamewar was totally about someone doing the "soldiers only get paid yada-amount so how dare McDonalds workers ask for yada-whatever-more" and like whoooooa there you start that one with Dr Santiago and she's gonna take you up one side and down the other about how the fact that what you're mad about is the fast-food workers wanting a living wage and _not_ that the people the country asks to get killed for them get _paid shit_ makes you a horrible ungrateful unpatriotic selfish parasitic piece of _garbage_ who should go jump in a lake with weights tied around your feet, she has _opinions_ about this, okay?) 

_So anyway_ I kinda had all those thoughts _at once_ which was like, hi brain have a head on collision? But then I also had the thoughts of oh, wait, I could probably even make this a bit easier but _then_ I had the thought of okay but I'm not 100% sure I can do that without actually like . . . _talking about_ what's actually going on and then I was like oh god, can I tell my boss about this and then I was trying to think about the implications of it and that's when Dr Santiago said I had a face. 

_So there was a lot going on in my head_ is my point, as to why I had a face. And still! So I was kind of stuck going, "Uh," and when her eyebrows went up I was like, "Okay, just, gimme a sec?" 

And then I was like, okay actually you know what the smart thing to do here is, the smart thing to do is _ask_ and I was like, "Okay I know this is super-weird but can you just bear with me and give me like . . . two minutes to make a call?" 

I was so weirding Dr Santiago out by then? But she was just like okay, fine, and nodding all nonplussed so I darted out of the office and grabbed my phone and said, "Sorry one sec!" and totally stole the bathroom from Tonya who gave me a look that totally said _what is your malfunction even_ as I closed the door and locked it. 

I ended up calling Steve because I figured like worst case scenario he gives me like the on-the-phone equivalent of a disapproving look and tells me to call James whereas worst case scenario if I called James was I totally screwed up something they were handling this way on purpose and caused a big mess or something? 

Because like okay so I don't know what actual official ~*arrangements*~ are on or anything, like I don't know maybe even the whole world is just pretending James isn't there because otherwise they'd have to do something and that would involve fighting Steve and I'm pretty sure Steve - 

Like okay I'm still not sure if they're boyfriends or what, Paula thinks probably but like Mercedes Sandoval just gives you a kind of a _look_ when you ask, which she is really good at, and it's the kind that makes you stop asking because it's a stupid question even though you still have no idea what the answer to the question is? And I'm just not sure? 

Because seriously the Black Widow visits a lot and okay so she still rings the buzzer so maybe she doesn't have her own key or maybe she's just polite plus I think Mercedes says she breaks in sometimes so whatever maybe this is just Special Crazy Superhero Courting or something? But like I swear she and Steve flirt _like there's no tomorrow_ and they totally go out for like coffee-dates and stuff so _whatever_ \- my point is that the arrangements going on here are at least potentially pretty special and idiosyncratic and once you start that anything could go. 

Seriously once you step off the Normal Models of Sexual-Romantic Relationships, who even knows what's going on, you have to throw out the _whole_ play book and none of the subtle cues are something you can rely on anymore. Trust me. 

_But_ the other point is it totally does not matter? Maybe they're boyfriends, maybe they're just like accidentally-born-to-different-moms twins, maybe it's something else big and complicated, I dunno, but they are definitely extension-of-each-other life-partners _is what I'm saying_ , and if someone tried to mess with James then Steve would totally cut them down and like _I don't know if people remember here_ but the last time someone tried to arrest Captain America he kind of killed a major military aircraft by himself with a shield. 

And then saved us all from HYDRA. With like four other people. 

Against like dozens of people with guns and _fighter jets_ here. 

I am just saying in this fight I am not putting my money on the other side! Maybe other people have made the same calculation! So maybe everybody's just, like, taking that into account and pretending James doesn't exist because things are awkward otherwise. So like the point is I don't even know if James legally exists or anything so that means that like things like legal power of attorney or whatever are possibly not a factor. 

But, like. And I feel like really defensive saying it which is kinda dumb and just goes to show: Society! Because I like James and I don't wanna seem like I'm insulting him even thought it's _not an insult, Chloe_ , come on, you know that, the point is: I don't know what the arrangements are but I'm pretty sure James is totally not up to, like, independently taking care of himself. 

Wow, I feel bad saying that. And I shouldn't because like wow, _there's nothing wrong with that_ , like. You know? That's fair. I mean like Occam's razor - the real Occam's razor - actually says "don't invent bodies beyond necessity", which actually means like don't imagine things being more complicated than they _need_ to be to explain what's going on? It doesn't mean "simple is right", it means "go with as little as you _need_ to explain things". Sometimes it turned out that the only explanation that works is super complicated! Even the "simplest" explanation turns out to be a mathematical equation longer than my arm! 

So like applying that, the point is like the simplest possible explanation that makes sense of how, you know, DC-14 and all that shit happens, but James is now living on the fourth floor of my building, with Steve, and looking after a little blind kitten and being all adopted-uncle-y to this girl on the second floor and coincidentally not just saving me from my stupid fucking ex-boyfriend but like _not even hurting him_? 

That all involves nightmare-inducing bad shit happening to him. Like the kind of shit where then you go read about child soldiers in Sierra Leone because you need something lighter. 

Like I didn't even think of that part until later, just as a sort of side-note? Tyler, I mean. Like even if the fucking idiot hadn't had a gun, right - okay without a gun Paula could probably take him but she'd have to have _fucked_ Tyler up. Like really hurt him. And I'm not saying I'd've felt bad because he totally deserved it? But that's not the point. And like the way he was acting even the cops might've had to actually like take him down and he might've got hurt, again even without the gun, because he was so clearly _stupid drunk_. 

_Then add the gun_. Okay he's white, he might not have got _killed_ , but it wouldn't've been _good_. 

And like, okay: a) James didn't have to come help at all, but b) he also totally didn't have to _try to de-escalate first_. And he did! Like. Twice. And like on top of that I was looking, when Tyler got up off the ground he didn't even look like his face was scratched up from getting taken down or anything. He just got his feet knocked out from under him and then got scared shitless. 

It took me a while to think about how careful James had to be? But when I thought about it, wow, okay, so when some asshole all drunk and belligerent totally makes a pain in the ass of himself in the middle of the night and then pulls a gun on him, the guy still put the fucker down and got rid of him in like the most gentle way possible. And then reminded us to drink water. 

This is the guy living upstairs who apparently just a couple years ago was carving a huge swathe of destruction through downtown DC and also trying really, really hard to kill Steve. 

Like _Occam's razor_ , the explanation with _fewest necessary bodies_ , basically goes: HYDRA fucked the guy up until he didn't know which way was up, total Stockholm Syndrome, "there are five lights and we've always been at war with Eurasia", beatings and torture and worse shit brainwashing and conditioning and stuff. Bad stuff and like a _lot_ for a _really fucking long time_ okay. That's gonna mess you up because hey, messing you up is the point! 

And at that point there is nothing fucking wrong with needing some help with normal-life bullshit. 

Severe PTSD is a thing, mental illness is a thing, and I know that, and it's totally okay to need help doing shit when you're stuck with one of them and I seriously believe that but I mean let's face it if I were to try to say I didn't internalize what _other_ people get judgemental and shitty about, Paula would get That Face and also I'd be lying. So I get defensive. Like I am now. 

Moving on. The point is: I'm pretty sure James needs, like, live-in support. For a lot of stuff. So like, in total important ways, Steve's looking after him. 

And like the thing is that I'm pretty sure I know James well enough now to say that if he didn't have to let someone else look after him, even Steve, he totally wouldn't? Which implies to me at least that's a pretty strong, heavy "has to", so like _getting back around_ to my point of why I called Steve first: 

Given, like, Hawkeye's the one who came in to talk to Dr Santiago, not even Steve, maybe this is something that needs special handling, and maybe I'd rather risk that Steve be a bit annoyed at me than dump the eggs out all over the tile floor, so to speak. Like I would rather get a lecture about assuming _that_ than burst some kind of careful bubble of . . .whatever. The former's just embarrassing and makes me look like a jerk, and like: I will survive, okay. I have been an embarrassed jerk before. Second option might actually hurt something. 

I did have a moment of thinking oh my god, how is this my life? And then I had to wonder how often either Steve or James or, like, any of them - okay maybe not Stark or the Black Widow because like from what I know I don't think their lives were ever normal like he was _born_ Anthony Edward Stark and the one _People_ article said the SHIELD files said she got kidnapped at like five into the weird assassin program, but like _the rest of them_ , how often do they think that? 

And then I was like oh my fucking god Chloe just make the fucking call. 

Which I did. 

The _Hello?_ I got sounded a bit startled which, you know, not like I call a lot so fair enough. 

"Hi," I said. And was like okay awkward. "This is Chloe, from downstairs - um, so you know your friend came in earlier to talk about - " 

I _kind_ of trailed off maybe because it was awkward but he also went, "Ah, yeah - gimme one sec?" 

I have no idea what he did in the pause because it seriously wasn't very long at all and I didn't hear anything happening? But when he came back and said, "Yeah, right, I know Clint was in," he sounded like maybe a bit less tense? Or something. I don't know. Totally did not have enough general information to make a solid judgement, you know? 

"Is there a - ?" he started and it was totally clear he was going to say _problem_ so I interrupted. 

I said, "No, totally not at all I just, um." I took a breath and figured I should just go for it so I said, "Is it a, like, _problem_ if I just kind of . . .tell my boss what's actually up? Like, Dr Santiago. I trust her?" I added. "And like I think we can actually help a bit more if I can . . .tell her actual stuff . . .that I know. But obviously I don't want to, like - " 

And then I stopped and I was like, "Wow, I am so not good at not being awkward," and I guess I sounded funny because I could hear like some amusement when he answered. 

And he was like, "No, it's fine, I understand, trust me." And then he was quiet long enough for me to start feeling awkward and then maybe I heard something that sounded like a sigh? and before I could say anything _he_ said, "You know, yeah, go ahead. I mean, I do appreciate you asking first," he clarified, "and obviously I . . .kind of prefer to keep a low profile." 

And I was like, "No I totally get it and I know Dr Santiago will too," because okay I was pretty sure, right, "and like, if you're not sure - " 

And Steve was like, "No, it's fine. Thanks, Chloe. I appreciate it." 

I had to take another little wow-how-is-this-my-life moment. 

So we said good-bye and I hung up and gave Tonya the bathroom and went back to Dr Santiago's office and she gave me this total "oooookay then girl what the hell" expectant and curious look and I sat down. And then got up and made sure the door was closed and sat down again. 

Then I said, "Okay so I am totally going to tell you some stuff you're gonna have a hard time believing." 

 

I explained. 

It took a while. There's a lot. I even tried to keep it as succinct as possible but like: there's a lot. 

When I was finished, Dr Santiago stared at me for a couple seconds. Then she looked at her desk, and she was like, "Wow." 

Then she looked at me again, and then up at the ceiling, and then at the wall. And then at me. She said, "You're not joking." 

"I swear to God I'm not," I told her. "Like seriously swear _to God_ and like, on whoever's grave you want and on like both my dogs' lives." 

Dr Santiago said, "Wow," again. Then she looked super concerned and said, "Is it okay that you just told me this? I mean - " 

"That's totally why I had to make a call," I said, as quick as I could because like I totally get the question and also would so not want to be thought of as someone who just threw other people's secrets out there. "I called and asked. Because like I have Steve's - Captain Rogers' - cellphone number because, um, the kitten." 

Dr Santiago said, "Wow," and then she said, "holy _shit_ ," and then stared past me at the wall and said, "oh wow." 

Like, I couldn't argue with that assessment, seriously? 

Then she totally focused on me and said, "That must be so weird. The whole - " she sort of made this tumbling circle with her arms, like you do for Wheels on the Bus. 

"I forget it's weird," I told her, because that's the honest truth. "And then I remember again because, like. This." 

"Sorry," Dr Santiago said, "I'm just trying to process." 

And I was like, "No, I totally get it, believe me." So then we were quiet for a second while she looked at the table. She kinda mouthed _wow_ a couple more times and then focused on me again. 

"And . . . how did he end up with a kitten?" 

"One of the girls in our building found an orphaned litter in an alley?" I started, and Dr Santiago nodded. 

"Right, I remember that, you were giving her help - " she said. 

"Right," I agreed. "So like she was trying to get people to adopt them, and she'd got all but three, and then one of the guys said he'd take the last two if no one else did after his daughter took her cat to her new place but that still left one more, and then another girl, who was friends with the first girl and is friends with James and Steve, do not even ask me how I don't know, but she got all offended that the first girl, her friend, hadn't gone upstairs to ask James or Steve yet so she dragged the box up and I think she basically kinda conned him into taking this one? The little blind one?" 

I took a breath, because I had to. "Except like right after that he came down to ask he about what he should get for them and the kitten was already like totally clinging at him, and he was already like reacting to her to try and calm her down. And now the kitten basically goes almost everywhere with him, I've even seen him take her to the park with a harness a couple times." 

I had to stop and take a breath. Dr Santiago had totally changed to the face she gets when she's thinking and trying to solve a problem. "When H - " then she stopped and was like, "oh god, what's his actual name? I cannot call someone by their superhero name when they're actually a person I gave decaf tea in my office." 

"Clint," I said and totally avoided latching onto a tangent about names, which I was super proud of myself for. "Clint Barton." 

"Right," said Dr Santiago. "Okay, so he uses his real first name sometimes. Anyway. He framed it like emotional support animal, that kind of thing." 

"Probably fair," I told her. "Like, I don't think James gets out much. Like I think I've seen him come in or go out the front door only a handful of times and like by himself maybe twice, ever? I know he goes up on the roof sometimes but like I don't think he goes to see other people when he goes that way. I mean. Basically I think his post-traumatic stress disorder is basically . . . epic."

So not the most grownup or elegant way of phrasing it, I totally realize that, but it was pretty descriptive. 

"Yeah," is what Dr Santiago said, and she looked all thoughtful and like . . .inside-her-head. "It'd have to be." 

"And like," I went on because I realized I wanted to finish explaining the actual reason I'd, well, explained anything at all, "I'm pretty sure that Clint could distill a lot of the stuff that really matters into whatever he told you because like that's kind of like what . . . whatever, but my point is that like I just thought there's some stuff that I've noticed about him around the cat in specific, kind of? And just like, reinforcing some of the stuff that's really important and stuff? That I could just help it all be really sorted out as much as possible, if I explained like . . .all of it. So." 

Dr Santiago nodded slowly. She said, "You're probably right. It definitely underscores some of the things Clint said. Okay." She took a deep breath. "Let's work this out, then, and then I can go . . .get a coffee. And, um. Boggle some more." 

I kinda thought that was fair. 

 

So when I got home I basically grabbed Paula and made her come and try and help me to figure out what would freak out someone trained to be, let's not be totally obtuse here, a living weapon. Paula is better at that kind of thing than me. 

Like here's the thing about Paula: it's a fucking miracle she is how she is. I don't know how it happened. Like it's actually hard to describe how fucked up her family _is_ because you keep having to back-track? And then you get upset because so much of it, like. It's not even their fault they're fucked up. It's like they never had a chance. Except neither did she, and she's herself. So something went different? But it's totally not obvious what it is. 

I'm not really a spiritual person. She kind of is, but she's super private about it so I'm not gonna get into it but like: if there really is something or someone hanging around that's even partly responsible for the part where she's herself and wonderful, I totally fucking owe them. 

But the other thing about Paula is she's way better at being terrifying than I am because I get all inhibited even in my head by things like "but that's not allowed" or "nice people don't do that", whereas Paula's purely conceptual inhibitions tend to be more like "no that would get you killed" or "the police would totally shoot you." So all and all I figured she would probably be better at getting the mindset and giving us an extra run-through of everything. 

We sat in the living room and she frowned at her coffee with Baileys in it and was like, "Okay. So like. First thing. Everybody in the whole world is potentially a threat." 

"Okay," I said, because that made sense. 

"But here's the thing, right," Paula went on, "is that they don't stop being a threat because of whether or not you think they'll do something? They stop being a threat because of what you can do if they try shit. You don't ever really trust people, you trust how you can handle people. If you don't know you can take them, they're not safe. End of story." 

"That sounds like the worst way to live ever," I said, because it was late and I was tired and it had been a Day. And Paula gave me this like absolutely priceless Look. 

"Yeah, baby," she said. "It kinda sucks." 

 

The next few hours were totally depressing but on the plus side, it did mean that when Clint Barton called the clinic to follow up on stuff and pin stuff down, I had already thought of like 90% of the shit he thought of - and wow his brain must be _super fun_ to live in in and of itself because he thought of some stuff even Paula wasn't paranoid enough for - and I was pretty proud of that. 

I also totally told him that we were all on the same page now, because why wouldn't I? And he totally took that in stride. So it was all fine. 

There's some stuff we couldn't do much for. Like, you can't totally de-medicalize a medical procedure. But basically the idea was to have the little Apricat out of James' sight literally _just_ as long as it took to do the stuff that actually truly required the, you know, operating room equipment. Like the actual surgery. Initial sedation before we actually went to full on anaesthetic, the recovery, all of that stuff, she could be in the other room and James could watch her. 

And he could watch her in one of the exam rooms that's actually comfortable to sit in, which I went in and made look even less like it was an exam room by getting rid of the sharps disposal container and stuff like that, by dragging in the rug from Dr Burger's office for the floor, and by taking down all the posters and stuff I thought looked, like, really medical-y. 

I put some fake flowers in a vase, too, because everything's better with fake flowers. 

I did ask about, like: should I put stuff to make coffee in the room because then there's no need to even worry about if I put something in it? Except Hawkeye kind of gently pointed out that basically James isn't poisonable and there is zero chance even with the surgery supplies anyone could put enough of something in the coffee to knock him out before he noticed? And finally that anyone who might somehow be good enough to be using us to get at him would know better and know that all it'd get them was a bunch of dead bodies. So it wasn't really a thing. 

Which, okay, good point. And horribly depressing to think about _that_ level of paranoia. 

Otherwise I mostly was talking with Dr Santiago and hoping that she would be pretty cool. And she seemed to be. 

"Like I think mostly, the calmer and more casual you and me can be the better?" I said, and Dr Santiago nodded. "But like at the same time he might get super-quiet and kind of withdrawn and, like - it's not hostile, exactly?" I kinda shrugged with my palms up. "Like he's seriously never been anything but polite ever, including the time my psycho ex showed up with a gun." 

Dr Santiago stared at me and said, "Your ex did _what_?" but I expected that. And did not want to dwell. I hadn't mentioned the whole thing with Tyler because I did not want to deal with people freaking out, and I really was pretty sure he'd fuck off for good this time. 

"Yeah that was a fun time," I said, sort of trying to breeze past it. "James took the gun away and told him to go home and it was seriously like he was just, like. Like Tyler was this idiot toddler who was aiming a water pistol everywhere and making a mess. And that was after James tried to be polite. I mean I freaked the fuck out at the time - sorry, language - but it turned into a total 'so that happened'." 

Dr Santiago gave me a little bit of a funny look but she just said, "I can see how it would," so I shrugged and went on. 

"But even then it was like he really did _not_ want to deal with people anymore, but was still super nice. But like. You can tell he's stressed and upset? But like the worst thing you can do, I think, is like. Mention it. Because then he's like scared he's scaring you? Or something? Basically just getting on with stuff works best?" 

She kind of looked at me with that expression she gets sometimes that says I've totally managed to make her feel old by reinventing the wheel somehow? But she just said, "Yeah, that makes sense. Normalize by performing the unexceptionality." 

And like sure, that sounded right? 

 

In the last conversation with Clint Barton, the one that was me and him and Dr Santiago all together, he gave us both this look that was like totally serious _and_ dripping ironic amusement _at the same time_ which is like a talent? And was like, "And just to address the elephant in the room - if something does go horribly wrong with the kitten, somehow, because God hates us all and delights in our torment, or something? I will deal with it, and you should just do what I tell you to." 

"Gotcha," Dr Santiago said, and I figured I'd let that stand for me too. 

 

On Sunday I totally expected Steve to be there. Like in that sort of way where you expect up to be up and down to be down, so that you don't realize you're expecting it, and like nobody ever said anything about it so you had no reason to expect it, you just sort of did. 

And then Steve was not there! Which totally threw me. Instead, Clint Barton came in with James and something grande from Starbucks. 

So okay, like, confession time: like everybody grew up knowing the _saying_ "Captain America-handsome" and it is not a lie, and if you're into guys James is really lovely and could totally model and his eyes are _huge_ and unfair, but like if we're playing the "which Avenger do you have a crush on" game, Hawkeye is totally my type. 

Not quite as much my type as the Black Widow is Paula's type but like, still. 

The point is it would've been a bit less awkward for _me_ if Steve had been there. Steve's just my neighbour. Like yeah sure chiselled good looks and all but mostly he's just the really nice guy who lives in my building. I'm used to him. I'm even used to James. Clint Barton, not so much. 

Fortunately I saw them from the door to the office so I had time to be caught flat-footed before I had to act like a person who wasn't hideously socially awkward, so I was totally over my moment of "wait where's Steve" before I said hello. 

James doesn't have a carrier for the Apricat or anything: if he needs to take her somewhere, he just carries her. When she was smaller she used to crawl into the pocket of whatever hoodie or jacket he was wearing, and she got sad when she couldn't do that anymore, but she can crawl into the hood, or just under the collar. Basically if she pokes her nose out and the place doesn't smell familiar, she just glues herself to him more. 

So when he came in, James was holding a venti something-from-Starbucks in his right hand, and a curled up and not-super-happy looking Abrikoska against his collarbone with his left hand. 

Clint Barton opened door and held it open, and he was talking in a language I totally did not recognize as they came in. But I could tell first off that whatever he was saying, he was finishing it off as he came in, and second, whatever he was saying? James was totally _radiating_ "sounds fake, but okay" at him about it.

Of course I'm super curious, but it was time for introductions, not time for Chloe being totally nosy. 

Also of course it's like _right then_ I realize I had totally forgotten to tell Dr Santiago about the whole thing where James doesn't touch people. Like, ever. 

It's something you can sort of miss, depending on how you've met him. Like if you didn't meet him in a situation where it's natural to shake hands, then hey, who knows, maybe there's no reason that you would have even brushed past each other, you know? but it doesn't take very _long_ if you meet him more than once to realize that no seriously: James does _not_ touch people. 

Ever. _Ev. Er._

Honestly I still feel kind of bad about hugging him after the mess with Tyler, but he doesn't seem to have, like, hung onto that. So I try to let it go, too. But seriously I have _never_ felt someone go frozen and rigid like that before. I was drunk and hysterical and maybe a little bit dissociated (I'm not sure? I haven't quite figured out how I'd tell, or like, when feeling weird and out of it counts as dissociation) so it took me a second to like process the moment period, but holy crap was it really clear he did _not_ want me to be touching him at, like, all. 

Just totally froze until I let go. 

And like after that I noticed that honestly he doesn't even touch Steve. And like he coaches Mercedes Sandoval, the girl I talked about before, for like parkour and now apparently knife stuff? I've seen them a couple times in the back courtyard. And even then he almost never touches her and when he does it's left-handed. 

Which is all a long way of saying that in that second right there I totally went _erk!_ inside my head because I totally forgot to tell Dr Santiago _do not_ try to shake hands. 

Turns out, though, that she was totally ahead of me? Or something. Maybe Hawkeye said something, I don't know. But she didn't offer a handshake when Hawkeye introduced James to her and her to James, just did this tiny lean forward and was like _it's great to meet you_. Which I think she totally meant. 

Her wife is in the Navy, right? And like of course everyone knows about the Howling Commandos and stuff but like for a lot of us it's sort of like **Captain America!!!!** and  the Howling Commandos, like a unit and sort of background. Like even me, it was like that except when I was little Mom always pointed out that one of them was Asian (and then my aunt would get all acid about how he was _Japanese_ -American not _Chinese_ -American and they would be passive-aggressive at each other for twenty minutes or so), because she wanted me to have Role Models. 

Once someone's in the military though - any part of the military - that's so not how it is. I've got a couple of friends who are, mostly to get to school, and I swear that your Favourite Howling Commando is like almost like how nerds are with what Hogwarts House we're part of. There are basically flamewars about who the most under-appreciated Howling Commando is. 

The way Dr Santiago seemed _really sincere_ about the great-to-meet-you made me kind of suspect right then and there that her wife's was totally James. 

. . .or should that be "is"? Since he's not dead?

This stuff gets so weird. 

Anyway the point is: she didn't try to shake James' hand and it looked like she even sorta blocked Leej, the vet tech who was gonna look after the anaesthetic, from offering his hand to shake. Which I thought was pretty slick. Fortunately (okay not so fortunately for him but like fortunately for _this situation_ ) Leej is super shy around new people and really sensitive about his English in that way that means he doesn't talk much to people he doesn't know, so he just sort of was there beside her smiling and nodding when she said stuff and then like totally went to hide in the back and get ready. 

Then I said hi, and I went to make some coffee and tea and stuff while Dr Santiago showed James the room. 

Like I said, earlier I'd totally gone through and taken out like, most of the posters and pictures that actually talked about, like, veterinary medicine and stuff. Then I moved all the posters and pictures that were just happy pictures or whatever in so the walls didn't look bare. I got rid of the sharps container and other stuff like that. Then I found like all the not-veterinary-medicine type magazines and put them in there. 

One of them was the Vanity Fair with the big article on Pepper Potts, who is kind of my hero, and all the women she put in really important positions in Stark Industries. I totally did not ask Clint Barton what he thought about the article because I absolutely have impulse control. I swear. 

But I super wanted to. 

Speaking of Clint Barton, he did absolutely _not a fucking thing_ for my celebrity crush the whole time he was there, the bastard. 

It's not that he was, like. Charming. At least not the way most people mean charming. I actually don't trust charming. Like, I can deal with the totally overdone Tony Stark type charming where like clearly everyone's supposed to know it's a game, but when guys try to actually be charming it's like every single alarm in my head is on at the loudest it can be: this person is going to try to trick you into stuff! And manipulate you! Charming mostly either makes me want to leave or if I feel really trapped do what Paula calls my cornered rat impression (she means it in a good way - she'd totally have a pet fancy rat if she didn't already have Theophilus) and attack the charming guy's face. 

And Clint Barton wasn't like that at all. 

He was just, like. Funny. And interesting? And clever. And basically managed to chat comfortably with Dr Santiago non-stop any time that she wasn't explicitly explaining what was going to happen with the operation and our itinerary and stuff. Which like I would totally normally be like oh-my-god-shut-up but the thing is I didn't really _notice_ that he was filling all the silence until later when I thought about it. 

At the time it was just, like. Great to listen to. Entertaining and stuff. And Dr Santiago was having fun. And James only looked a _little_ bit like he'd rather be, like, having a tooth pulled. 

The pre-surgery checkup was the longest part of the whole thing, really. I brought in the coffee, while Dr Santiago went through what is apparently the only way to make friends with the silly apricot-kitten, which you kind of have to do if you want to touch her without her trying to turn your hand into a bloody mess. 

I kind of got to skip it, because she came to see me a few times when she was still really tiny and getting over her eye-infection, but she got Paula a _really_ good swipe that day when she moved in, and apparently she's like that with anyone strange. If she doesn't recognize your smell and you try to touch her she'll either run away, or try to flay all the skin off your hand.

I have no idea how they even knows this? I guess there are more, like, people to interact with when they go stay at the Tower? I mean I do know Steve and James go stay at the Tower sometimes. Stark Tower. Or Avengers Tower. Whatever we're calling it these days. Like, housekeeping and stuff. Or just other people. I dunno, maybe she bit Iron Man? Hopefully she didn't bite Dr Banner that could get totally the bad kind of exciting.

Anyway apparently how you make friends is, you sit down and you put one of her dried sardine treats sort of halfway between you and her. After she eats the first one, you put the next one right next to you. If she eats that one, you let her sniff your hand, and then she's probably going to decide you're Not A Kitten-Eating Monster and she doesn't have to sink all her claws and teeth into you at the first sense of you trying to touch her. 

Which is so funny to me. Trying to picture her like that. Like I believe it! I've totally met lots of pets that are like that with strangers, to one extent or another. But the worst I've ever seen with her is her being super timid and whiny and trying to, like, metaphorically crawl inside James' ribcage. Otherwise she's just this nervy small cat who is _so in love with her human_. 

Speaking of. Like. Like okay, I _have to say this_ : she loves James _so much_ and it is _so - fucking - cute_ , you could almost die. Seriously! She freaking does, she just loves him a _lot_. She like drapes herself on his shoulders or crawls into his hood or burrows into his lap, and she's like constantly rubbing her face all over him and demanding that he pet her, and purring like a motorboat. And she's one of those _loud_ purrers, probably because she's so small and skinny so there's not much flesh or anything between where she's making the noise and the rest of us. But like whatever the reason: loud. And so fucking cute. 

And like okay it's kinda awkward to say about someone who's clearly so, like. Emotionally shut down - and like I said before has _so much reason to be_? But he totally fucking loves her back just as much. And he like never had a cat before. It's fucking _adorable_. I could _die_. 

Right then she was sort of like alternating purring and this plaintive heartbreaking meow-sound, the kind that makes you feel _so guilty_. Cats, seriously. They're actually even worse than dogs sometimes. 

It took just about a half hour before Abrikoska gave up and ate both sardines and let Dr Santiago pet her and moved Dr Santiago into the category of "I will complain loudly and dramatically when you move me but I won't turn your hand into ribbons". About that time I got everyone a second round coffee, because I could totally tell that James was starting to clench his teeth at the meowing. 

I seriously don't blame him, by the way. The Apricat is _good_ at that brain-drilling meow. 

After I brought the coffee, I had an idea. I went and knelt down by the little coffee table and was like, "Here - ?" and Dr Santiago let me hold her while she did the rest of the quick exam, and Abrikoska meowed a bit less after sniffing my hand and deciding it was okay if I held her instead. Which I gotta say totally was an ego buff. And when she did still make noise it was a lot more like she was talking to me specifically, like, complaining, and less like she was bleating and wailing for someone to come save her. So I chirped back, and I think that was all easier.

Fortunately she was totally healthy, except for not being able to see much - Dr Santiago said she thought there might be some ability to differentiate bright light from dark, but not much. So Dr Santiago took the pre-anaesthetic blood-test and then handed her back to James to take it and go make sure there weren't any red flags in the blood-work. 

And like the second she got handed back Abrikoska was _crawling_ up James' arm and the front of his shoulder and trying to shove her head into the space between his collarbone and his chin and curl up there, making little meep sounds and purring. He sort of leaned back in the chair and let her, petting her head and talking to her in I _guess_ Russian? In a kind of exasperated tone that was a total cover. 

I just about died on the spot. 

Except then I got distracted because _Hawkeye_ asked me how school was going and then wow it was like twenty minutes later, the blood-work was done and everything was clear, and Dr Santiago was coming in to give Abrikoska the sedative to prep for the anaesthetic. 

That was the one point that James really showed any stress, in that I could like, see it. And it came out pretty innocently - just, as Dr Santiago took out the syringe, he went like he was going to take her arm to stop her and then stopped himself. Didn't even touch her. 

I got kinda nervous really fast, and then I felt bad about it. Dr Santiago at least looked like she handled it better than me; she just went, "Something wrong?" 

I totally didn't _notice_ how Clint Barton totally stopped talking at that point, until later. But he did. He was all still and calm and shit. 

James took this slow breath and then said, kinda quietly, "That's intramuscular," and it totally wasn't a question, so I wondered if he'd like looked stuff up before-hand. When Dr Santiago said yes, James held out his left hand and was like, "Give it here." 

Right then I kinda had no idea what to think, but later when I thought about it I was _super_ impressed how Dr Santiago just handed the dose over. I dunno, maybe she'd thought that part through before-hand? Or maybe she was just brilliant on the spot. But she did. Like oh yeah sure, it's totally normal for pet guardians to take over giving injections, no problem! But right then I was totally just a head full of exclamation and question-marks. 

Right then I was also totally weirded out by how totally competent James was at giving the kitten the sedative injection, but again later I thought about it, and I guess if you're really freaked out about anyone else doing anything medical anywhere near you, that kind of means you have to learn to do a lot of stuff yourself? Or something. 

Honestly it's still kind of weird. But he totally had no problem - Dr Santiago pointed to the place over the shoulders where she would've injected and James did it and then tossed the syringe down on the table. The Apricat squeaked in protest at him but he said something in Russian and stroked her head and then she crawled back up to the front of his shoulder again. 

We left them there while the sedative kicked in. I was kind of surprised when Hawkeye came out of the room, but it was to tell me that I shouldn't hover around inside the room while the surgery was going on. He figured it would be better if I just stayed out in the back and then brought the kitten back in when she was done. 

I tried not to, but I did give in and asked him, "Are we like - okay?" He smiled at me. 

"Yeah," he said. "We're fine." And then I must've looked unsure or something because he smiled again and was like, "Trust me, spend more'n ten years or so around elite operatives, you get used to managing shit. Yours, other people's, doesn't matter. We're fine. Just be a little less awkward with less audience, you know? I mean, you want more people than absolutely necessary in watching you get worked up about a major exam?" And then he shrugged like _well there you go then_. And he had a point. 

So yeah I went with that. 

 

Spaying a cat is actually really fast, and not very messy. I mean, castrating a tom is even faster. You don't even really have to put a little male totally under to do that: we just use the face-mask and it takes like two minutes. Some vets don't even suture or glue the incision closed, because they figure it's more trauma than it's worth. Dr Santiago doesn't agree with that and uses the surgical glue, but like, that's how small it is. 

Spaying a cat isn't that fast, but it is a really small cut, and it takes about fifteen minutes. You just make a tiny, tiny incision through skin and subdermal fat and muscle - in a place where there's not much in the way of bleeding - and then you hook out the uterus and both ovaries and like I'm skipping a bunch of slightly-gory-detail-type-details here but that's the gist of it? Then you suture up the muscle, the fat and the skin, and you're done. 

I watched because hello yes, fantastic experience. And it's like it's a different part of my brain when I'm watching like that, because like - in and of itself, seeing an animal set up for surgery is really upsetting. Like it's upsetting just for normal people. The animal's unconscious so it's not bothering them and most of the stuff that's most upsetting, like the intubation, is actually there to act as adequate life-support and for their protection, but it just doesn't _look_ good. 

But when I'm looking at it from, like, a vet-student perspective, my head doesn't go there. 

I've always kind of wondered if human doctors have the same thing with, you know, humans? And how weird it must be if they do. It's weird enough trying to reconcile it afterwards with just animals.

It was a totally normal operation too. Zero drama. Everything went fine. Abrikoska's vitals all stayed totally stable, and if she's a tricky kitten awake sometimes, she was totally textbook on the operating table. Fifteen minutes, and then Dr Santiago was closing up the skin and Leej was stopping the anaesthetic. 

Dr Santiago also took a good look at her teeth and her eyes while she was under - like, she didn't take long doing it, but she did check things out - and they were great too. So Leej took the intubation out and I got the little flat-box with the blanket in it for her to carry her back into the other room. 

While Dr Santiago and Leej were cleaning themselves up, I picked her up and took her in to James. 

Or like, that was my plan: go in, pass her over, everything's fine! I'd come back and start cleaning the surgery up and we'd go from there. 

What actually happened is that somehow Hawkeye heard me coming and came out the door and closed it behind him at like _exactly_ the right time to meet me as I got there, like it was totally natural. Awkward, but natural. Well, awkward for me. 

I stopped like you do when you get totally derailed. I opened my mouth to say something, except then he put one finger to his lips in a _very_ definite kind of _how about you not say a single fucking word_ gesture. Then he gestured to the passed out cat and clearly indicated I should hand her over. 

And like. 

I almost argued. Or tried to insist, or something. Like, I don't want to say it hurt, or stung, or whatever because that's totally overstating it? But it _kind_ of did. There was definitely part of me that wanted to be like, hey: I can take her in. I'm fine. I get it. I'm safe. 

And plus, there was a certain amount of like . . . I dunno, veterinary procedure etiquette? Like, this is our surgery you know? I should take her in, I'm the assistant - sort of - and I'm the one who can give the whole spiel. And stuff like that. 

Except there were two things that meant I didn't. 

One was the _look_ on Clint Barton's face - like, it was still totally friendly? and calm? and polite? and not at all threatening? But like. There was just this edge. This sense that this was totally the opening bars of his immovable object piece. It was like it said he really didn't want to have this fight but that didn't mean he wouldn't, and that if we had this fight I would lose, and I wouldn't like it much. 

It's the kind of moment where you remember that like, okay so he's been Mr Pleasant-and-Personable all afternoon, but this is actually a guy whose job was basically tracking and killing people, or stopping them from killing other people, and he did it for years before we even knew he existed. 

But that was like the lesser of the two things - the bigger one was remembering when Tyler showed up. Or, like, after he showed up. 

It's not what you think: it's not remembering that James was scary. At all. That wasn't it. It's not even that I remembered how James went all freaked out and stiff when I hugged him. That was . . . a thing, sure, but it wasn't _the_ thing? _The_ thing, the thing that made me stop and hand the cat over, was - 

Like I'd realized right at that moment in the building hallway that I shouldn't've done that, right. The hug, I mean. I remembered that hugging people without warning isn't good period, even when you're totally strung out, and on and on, and I felt awful. Right then. And I tried to apologize right then. And the thing is - 

See, the thing is, James stopped me from apologizing so fast. _So_ fast. Like he cut me off, flat: all _no, stop_ , no, don't, like I didn't even get all the way through the apology. It was totally not the dance where you say you're sorry and the other person says don't worry - it wasn't. It was, James did not want to _hear_ me say it. Like it upset him. So he said no, and then told me and Paula to go to bed and drink water and stuff. 

Like it upset him more that I'd _felt_ him freak out than I'd done something to freak him out. Like that part was fucking awful. 

That was the bigger reason, the thing that got me. Remembering that, and knowing that I really didn't want to do that to him again. 

So I gave Abrikoska to Hawkeye and told my pride to put on its big girl panties and suck it the fuck up, and went and cleaned up. That's when I realized that I also had way more anxiety going on than I'd acknowledged, because at one point I had to face up to the fact that my hands were shaking a little bit. 

When I was done Dr Santiago tapped me gently on the shoulder and offered me a hug and I wasn't going to turn it down. Which helped a bit. While she said _thank you_ and stuff to Leej, I made more coffee. 

James was playing some kind of game on his tablet when I took the coffee in. The tablet was resting on the arm of the chair and he had something on the fingertips of his left hand so that the screen reacted to them, like some kind of sticker maybe. His right arm was cradling Abrikoska against his stomach. I definitely know vets who'd've tutted at it, but I also definitely would have punched them in the face for saying anything there and then. 

I would've probably hurt my wrist because I totally do not know how to punch people? But I would have punched them hard. 

Hawkeye was watching something on his phone, like a TED talk or something. The volume was pretty low, so I wasn't sure what it was. Both him and James looked up as I came in. 

I went to put both coffees on the table but then I realized that James wouldn't be able to reach it without leaning over, so instead I put it on the other arm of the chair. He smiled at me but it was kind of thin and small, and he said thanks. Well, he sort of almost said thanks. More like he sort of made the shape of the word? But I saw it. I smiled, and then I made an _aw bebe_ face at the kitten, who was still out of it, and handed Hawkeye his coffee. 

He totally winked at me as I left. 

 

Dr Santiago beckoned me into her office and closed the door. "Leej went home, didn't see any reason he needed to stick around and he's got stuff to do. Everything okay?" she asked. She actually seemed worried, too? 

I was officially done though - like suddenly my brain was _all_ burned out. Which makes me feel so useless. And besides I _wasn't_ done, so like, I went ahead and borrowed future cope from my future self, even though that kind of thing always sucks. 

"I think so?" I told her. "I mean Hawkeye was watching something and James was playing a game and the kitten looks fine. I think we're good. And, um." I felt super awkward but still was like, "Thank you? I mean, I know I didn't ask you or anything, but like. They're good neighbours." 

I've mentioned that I never claimed to be, like, smooth or anything, right? And I suddenly really wanted to go home and crawl into Paula's lap and stop dealing with shit. 

Dr Santiago smiled and shook her head and she was like, "It's fine. I'm honestly glad we could help. And honestly if my wife ever found out I said _no_ to helping Captain America's best friend in any capacity whatsoever she would probably divorce me on the _spot_ and possibly even . . . actually find some way to saw her wedding ring in half and throw both pieces at me. And that includes if when she found out was when we were both _dead_ and walking up to the Pearly Gates. So you know. It's fine." 

It probably says a lot about me or at least about how I was right then that this totally sidelined me because it made me think my suspicions were off a bit? So I was like, "So is she like - " 

"She still has the Cap baseball cap she won for high phys-ed achievement when she was in middle school," Dr Santiago said. "And the action figure her uncle got her. And I didn't tell you that, and you don't know it, and this conversation never happened." 

I said, "Totally understood," and I did totally understand. I met Dr Santiago's wife like . . . twice? And she's _really_ not the kind of person who would admit to having sentimental attachments to like. Anything. Ever. Possibly including her own limbs.

Then Dr Santiago looked at me and asked, "Are you okay?" 

"I, um. I think I had more feelings than I expected to?" I admitted. "But I'm fine. Mostly just, like . . ." I ended up sort of waving my arms around trying to indicate I-don't-even-know. "The world is terrible? And bad things happen to people? And I hate it? So I feel like kind of an idiot too, because - I dunno. Because." 

Have I mentioned Dr Santiago is the best boss? Like, she's a great boss. And she didn't even laugh at me, she just put her hands on my shoulders and said, "You're a good person, you know that?" 

So I told her, "You're gonna make me cry." And she smiled and gave me another hug. I didn't cry. 

The world is terrible and bad things happen to people, but also some people are pretty great. 

 

The rest was absolutely an anti-climax. The Apricat started waking up on time, and everything seemed fine. We already had a credit-card number on file to charge stuff to (God only knows whose or what it actually was I just took it when Hawkeye gave it to me?), so I printed off the receipt and gave it to Clint Barton, who'd totally gone back to being Friendly and Not-Offputtingly-Charming. I also gave him the syringe with morphine in it for if the kitten seemed to need it, but in a brown paper bag so it wasn't like Hello Here Is A Syringe. 

Abrikoska was groggy and super-clingy. I gave James a folded-over hand-towel to hold her in against the front of his shoulder, just in case she might get cold. I didn't give her a cone of shame, because she was usually so close to James I figured he could stop her licking at the incision. Dr Santiago agreed, and just gave him a card with her cell number on it and told him to give her a call if she did seem to go at it and it was time to go to sleep or whatever, she had some easy DIY solutions he could do with stuff most people have in the house. 

James basically didn't say anything. Like he nodded, and paid attention, and reacted and stuff, but after they left I kinda realized he hadn't really _spoken_ more or less the whole time since after - well I guess as far as I know, since we took the Apricat back to do the actual surgery. 

I hope he could go home and like, go to bed. Or rest. Or something. 

Dr Santiago and I took a second look over everything to make sure it was all cleaned up and ready for Monday morning and then she took a deep breath. "Okay!" she said. "I think we're good. You want a ride home?" 

I am one-hundred-percent way out of her way, so normally I feel bad getting her to drive me. But right then I totally said, "God, yes, please." 

 

When I got home Paula was doing the dishes and kind of dancing around the kitchen. She's got a new style to her hair right now, this neat thing where half is really short, and the other side has this undercut that doesn't go all the way up and then the rest of it's a pattern of blue and green and she styles it? It looks really good, anyway. At least I think it does. 

I closed the door and petted my doofus dogs until they decided they could go back to what they were doing and then I went into the kitchen and completely interrupted the dancing and the cleaning up by pulling Paula over and wrapping her arms around me, so I could wrap mine around her waist and I could hide my face in the front of _her_ shoulder, à la the silly kitten. 

". . . you okay?" she asked, over the music. 

"I have feelings and they're complicated and I don't even know what they are and I don't think I want to know what they are but they're heavy and I'm tired and the world is huge and I'm small," I said. Because I only pretend to be a grownup. Sometimes. 

"Oh, okay," is all she said, and then she leaned back against the counter in a kind of invitation not to have to move right away. Thank fuck. 

After a while she said, "I totally got some terrible freezer chocolate cake. We could watch _The Gods Must Be Crazy_. 

Which, okay, totally not the most PC movie in the world, _totally_ my comfort watch since I was a kid. "Okay," I said. 

 

My cats and Paula's bunny came to cuddle with us, so it was a pretty good end to the night. And I got a text in the morning from Steve with a picture of the Apricat sleeping on James, plus a note saying she was fine. So that was okay too.


End file.
